It’s about the tears staining your cheeks
and the pills on your tongue.
It’s about crying in the dead of the night
and the drugs you force in your veins.
It’s about weakness when nobody’s looking
and the blade poised on your wrist.
It’s about breaking down when everyone’s unaware
and your shaky grip on the noose.
It’s about wanting to just disappear
and your finger on the trigger.
It’s about wanting to let go, be entirely free
and your feet planted on the ledge.
It’s about you against your demons
and a tired heart that ceased to beat.

The familiarities that were once comforting
Have now become tear stained nightmares.
The anticipation of a new master piece-
One that brought the promise of change
And through magic became strokes
Of color-changing beauty, has now
Become dread and guilt.
The mirror cannot reflect the memories
Etched into crystalized eyes.
It cannot show the inner bruising,
From self-mutilation. It cannot show
The web work of past words that
Constrict the heart, barely holding
Together what was already broken.
The instability in a voice is ignored,
While time still continues all around.
One single moment can be sent into
Devastation while the earth doesn’t
Blink so much as an acknowledgment.
The smell of a crimson blade, should
Not be easily understood. The accusations
Should never have been, should never
Have become reality. If love is present,
Then these familiarities should be absent.

I wouldn't change the way I am
But I am a passionate person
I react strongly to everything
I love fast and hard
If only I could
Stop…
As easily as switching a light
On
        And
                   Off
But it only works one way
And I am destroying myself
Each time a little more
I pour my entire being in one go
I give and give and give until nothing is left
But
So often I am rewarded with silence
Then the pain
The pain
Is the worst kind
A burning blade slicing and burning
Fire in your veins
The pain makes my mind go numb
And attempt at shutting it all off
But always comes back
With a vengeance
I am a passionate person
And as they all do
Passions come with a price
I wonder how long I will be willing
**To pay.

I’m belly-side up,

Vulnerable.

Naked, without guard.

And I hand you the blade,

To carve out my heart.

I'm biting my skin
Because my nails
Well, they've been bitten to the nub
My anxiety is taking over
But I won't let it show
I don't know what to say
So the only reason my mouth is open
Is so it can wrap around my flesh
If you gave me back my blade,
I would stop biting my nails

You caught me with a blade
Pressed against my stomach
Drawing blood
You told me Jesus loves me
And world war 3 would stop
If I'd just call out on him

You told me that wouldn't make life easier
But it would help me live
A happy healthy life
But I can't give it up
My attempts at grasping for control

My shirt had blood on it
You watched me clean off the blood
You sighed, and reminded me
That I was worth something
Of course, I didn't hear you

I'm worrying now
That you'll tell my mom
That I'll get shipped off some place
Where they keep sharp things away
My blade has dulled
And so has the pain
I swear, I'll stop
I just needed to feel better

The idea of a fat rain drop smacking my shoulder blade is
both wildly unsatisfying and
much sweeter than the slice of a blade across my forearm.
But in the real world
Raindrops don't bruise
don't damage
don't break the skin like my glistening friend can.
I never understood the sad girls,
thick, black eyeliner running down,
who cut.
Until now.
And maybe I haven't yet
Maybe I never will.
But the sting of the knife would be so much more tangible
Than the ache I feel
Every time
I think about how you aren't here.